// once you're in my shining cathedral, heed the tolling bell //
Astaroth understands what that’s like, too, often hiding any true emotions behind the suave and easy smiles that came so naturally to him. Only the select few had seen him without the typical swagger, and between them all she had helped him get through the gore crow massacre he needed to do in order to contain his nightmares into something that could no longer affect him.
So it’s the least he can do to be her with her now, even if he can’t stay the night. He sips from his drink, downing it faster than she does hers, though the butcher doesn’t think it’s odd. Sometimes a drink sounded better than it was. Sometimes the burn didn’t hit right or the elevated beauty that would be being drunk becomes more like a prison than it does anything relieving.
So there’s zero judgement when she asks her question, the butcher shaking his he’d before he lifts a hand to rake through the dark hair, tucking them neatly behind the multitude of tines that have sprouted from his skull. “It is not. Evidently it shall be over when Deepfrost comes around.” He hums softly. “My other shifts effect me differently, however. My Fyrhund makes it so I prefer to sleep in as close to a den-like atmosphere as I can get.” Chuckling softly, he continues. “That has always been permanent.” This shift, though, new as it was, had become quite the learning curve.
So it’s the least he can do to be her with her now, even if he can’t stay the night. He sips from his drink, downing it faster than she does hers, though the butcher doesn’t think it’s odd. Sometimes a drink sounded better than it was. Sometimes the burn didn’t hit right or the elevated beauty that would be being drunk becomes more like a prison than it does anything relieving.
So there’s zero judgement when she asks her question, the butcher shaking his he’d before he lifts a hand to rake through the dark hair, tucking them neatly behind the multitude of tines that have sprouted from his skull. “It is not. Evidently it shall be over when Deepfrost comes around.” He hums softly. “My other shifts effect me differently, however. My Fyrhund makes it so I prefer to sleep in as close to a den-like atmosphere as I can get.” Chuckling softly, he continues. “That has always been permanent.” This shift, though, new as it was, had become quite the learning curve.
Astaroth
// it's the final sound you hear as you descend to hell //
